


In Another Universe, There Is A Witty And Memorable Title Here

by obstinatrix



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Docking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstinatrix/pseuds/obstinatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles has a foreskin. Erik finds it fascinating. Literally that is it, that is the plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another Universe, There Is A Witty And Memorable Title Here

It wasn't as if Erik hadn't known, theoretically, that not every man was cut. He'd attended enough brit milah ceremonies in his childhood to associate the smooth scar on his own cock with his Jewishness, and Charles, of course, was not a Jew. But the few other men he'd touched, in Israel and in America, had been smooth like him, for whatever reason, and the feel of them in his palm had been familiar, a known quantity. Charles's cock, the first time he'd taken it in hand, had been quite the revelation. 

Charles was gorgeous in the mornings, his body sleep-soft, hair tousled on the pillow. His eyes were still half-lidded as he gazed down at Erik indulgently, watching the motion of Erik's hand, firm and slow. 

"You're bloody fascinated, aren't you?" That voice, low from a night's disuse, curled warmly down Erik's spine, settling in the pit of his stomach. Erik smirked to himself and rubbed his face against Charles's chest. This was the perfect vantage point from which to watch himself work, the way the foreskin swallowed up and then revealed the pink crown of Charles's cock with every pull. There was something teasing about it, delicious, like a peep-show. Soon, Erik would slide down the bed and relearn the shape of Charles in his mouth, work his tongue into the secret space between foreskin and tip and make Charles whimper. Perhaps he'd catch it gently between his lips, tug a little. Not yet, though. For now, Erik was quite content where he was. 

"It's fascinating," Erik said, unapologetic. Charles was getting wetter, slickness glistening every time Erik's hand slid downward; a few more strokes, and there'd be enough to spill, smeared over the shaft by Erik's fingers. "When you don't have one of your own." 

Charles snorted a laugh; Erik twisted his palm over the head of Charles's cock on an upstroke and the laugh turned into a cut-off gasp, Charles's hips jerking into his hand. "It's only -- _mmm, that's good_ , Erik -- a _dick_ , it isn't --" 

"It is," Erik said, pulling the foreskin back between finger and thumb and holding it there, his hand stilling. Charles opened his mouth to protest, but then Erik lifted himself on one elbow and leaned over, tongued at the slit, and Charles fell back gasping, clawing blindly at Erik's hair. 

"Fuck --" 

And God, Erik loved it when Charles spoke like that, every curse so much filthier wrapped up in that cut-glass accent; loved the way Charles was so thrillingly sensitive here, the touch of Erik's tongue to the head of his cock sending spasms all through his body. It wasn't like that for Erik, not quite; he'd rubbed bare against underwear all his life, the skin there used to being touched. But when Erik curled his tongue slowly around Charles's crown, it was all Charles could do not to rear up off the bed, heels digging into the mattress. 

"Gott, Charles…" His hand was working again now, half-unconsciously, smearing Charles's slick all over. Charles was so hot against his cheek, against his lips, and Erik closed his mouth carefully over just the tip of him, drew up the sheath with lips and tongue and then dipped his head again, working it back and forth until Charles was moaning weakly, clutching at Erik's shoulders. 

They'd done this often enough now that Erik could feel when Charles was close, his thighs trembling and the muscles jumping in his stomach. When Charles did this for Erik,he'd suck him deep into his throat, swallow around the girth of him, but Charles could be brought to the edge just from this, from Erik's mouth working his foreskin slippery slick over the head,and Erik felt simultaneously proud and envious and deeply curious at the thought of it. The taste of Charles was thick on his tongue now, and when Erik pulled back, Charles moaned, hips chasing Erik's mouth.

"God, why are you stopping, don't stop --"

"You love this, don't you?" Erik was aching with want, rutting against the mattress just to ease the throb in his dick at the sight of Charles like this, how easily Erik could take him apart. "What does it feel like? When I..?" Slowly, Erik curled his fingers around Charles's crown, rubbed the foreskin back and forth, back and forth over it, and Charles groaned, body writhing on the mattress.

"I could --" Charles took a moment to catch his breath,and then he was shifting, reaching for the buttons of Erik's jeans. "I could show you; you want to know so badly, let me show you."

Erik's heartbeat was a jumping pulse in his throat; Charles's cock was hot and full in his hand, and when he raised his head, Charles was watching him, eyes dark and questioning. Erik's mouth felt dry, tongue sticking to the roof of it when he made to speak. "I…?" 

"Like -- look, like this." Charles's expression betrayed his uncertainty, but his movements were sure, and Erik let himself be manipulated by strong blunt fingers as Charles repositioned them both, until Erik's legs bracketed Charles's, the two of them facing each other in some obscene parody of a _row row row your boat_ childhood game. Charles was grinning, biting his lip awkwardly, but his cock was still hard in his hand and Erik's breath hitched, feeling the same surge of heat between his own legs, curiosity only fuelling the fire. 

"Get it --" Charles pawed at him, and Erik moved to aid him, fumbling open the fastenings of his trousers. The cool air was a relief on his straining dick, the head of it smooth and glistening with precome, so naked next to Charles's with its sweet pink sheath.

From what Erik could see, though, Charles didn't seem to find him lacking. The look on his face was rapt, and a moment later, his fingers closed around Erik's shaft, and Erik grunted his surprise, hips jerking involuntarily. 

"Like this, come on -- " Charles shifted, pushing the two of them closer on the bed, and after a moment, Erik realised dully what Charles meant to do. His own cock was cupped in his right hand, Erik's in his left, and then a nudge and Erik felt the slick kiss of Charles's slit against his, jolting electric into Erik's spine. 

"Oh --" He clutched at Charles's arm, but Charles was focused, now, his eyes intent as he stroked his cock with a practised hand, smoothed the sheath forward and _fuck_ , over the head of Erik's dick, swallowing him up in a silky heat that was like nothing Erik had ever felt. Dimly, Erik couldn't help but wonder whether that _hurt_ , whether it was normal for Charles to be able to stretch himself like that, smooth his silk-hot skin far enough to envelop Erik too; but Charles was open-mouthed, panting as he gripped the two of them together, and Erik read nothing but wonder in his face. Charles was breathless, cock pulsing blood-hot against Erik's, and Erik was _inside_ him in a way he'd never imagined, gripped close as skin. 

"Feel that?" Charles was panting, his breath stuttering. Erik bit his lip, dug his fingers into the mattress. Between them, Charles's hand was moving again, more carefully now, but back and forth over the two of them, working from the root of his cock over the place where they were joined, and Erik shivered, feeling the heat twist low in his gut. 

"Doesn't it -- it looks --" The fine skin was suede-soft under Erik's fingers, stretched taut; he sent the rest of the thought to Charles in a vague mental pulse, half-embarrassed. To his surprise, Charles laughed, grinned back at him, waved his free hand vaguely in the direction of his temple. 

"Want to see?" 

Erik barely hesitated a moment. Normally, even now, he was more circumspect about telepathy in their bed, but already the two of them were so entwined like this, Charles all around him; the thought of feeling Charles from within his own mind, as well as with Erik's own senses, was unutterably arousing. Sometimes, it hit Erik that way, this sudden breathless punch of admiration for what they were, what they could do; it dragged raw across his mental erogenous zones in a way he couldn't explain. Charles, flushed to his chest and panting across from him, caught the look on Erik's face, and nodded, and slipped inside. 

Immediately, it hit Erik like cool air upon emerging from water: the sounds and tastes and feelings multiplied almost painfully. Charles's hand was between them again, working Erik and Charles and ErikandCharles and all the places that were both, and Erik could feel the heat of their skin under Charles's palm, could feel his own cock pulsing precome under Charles's sheath. He closed his eyes, as if that could make this any easier to process, and the next moment, one or both of them had leaned across the space between, Erik's hand on the back of Charles's neck and their mouths meeting in a kiss that went deep and wet immediately. 

_Erik_ , Charles was sending, over and over; Erik shuddered and pitched forward, the tangle of their want needing more than this, more movement, more urgency. His hips ached to thrust, and Charles seemed quite happy to abandon their experiment when Erik settled on top of him, grinding down hard against his belly. 

"God, yes, Erik, do it, come here, that's perfect, keep going, keep --" 

Charles was always mouthy in bed, rambling demands and praise, but Erik couldn't do more than press his face into the crook of Charles's neck and let his body rut the way it wanted to. Charles's hands were on the small of his back, urging him on; he felt the grip of Charles's thighs on his waist and the narrowness of his waist between Charles's thighs all at once, and Charles was clutching at him, neck arching, prick dragging wet and twitching against Erik's belly and _fuck_ , when his climax hit, it seemed to come from everywhere, from whatever part of Erik would now always belong to Charles. It took a moment for Erik to realise that the mess between their bellies was from both of them; that he'd come when Charles had; that the intensity of it had been wrenched out of the two of them at once. 

In his mind, Charles was still a warm presence, soothing and unobtrusive. For a moment, Erik contemplated asking him to stay awhile, but -- no. That was a bad path. 

Sensing that thought, Charles withdrew, and Erik allowed himself a moment of disappointment. Beneath him, Charles was warm and solid, sweat and come far more unpleasant now than they'd seemed thirty seconds earlier, but Erik didn't want to pull away, not just yet. He carded his hands slowly through Charles's hair, sighed. 

"See," Charles murmured, palming the small of Erik's back sleepily, "We do well together, don't we?" 

The incongruity of the comment made Erik laugh out loud, but that was Charles, and after all, he wasn't wrong. "We do," he said, and pressed a kiss to Charles's collarbone. "That we do."

**Author's Note:**

> The observant may recognise the closing dialogue as something Sir Patrick and Sir Ian once said on a chat show while holding hands, because they are a gift.


End file.
